CHAPTER IV
THE TRAINING OF THE TROOPS
Into the Greek camp on Taygetus there came flocking day by day freshbands of recruits from all the country-side, and in the mouths of allwere fresh tales of the rise of the Greeks. The taking of Kalamata hadbeen spark to tinder, and in a hundred villages the patriots had risen,attacking and slaughtering those of the hated race who lived amongthem, burning their dwellings, and capturing women and children. Inother cases, though rarely, the Turks had been prepared, and the talewas of slaughter and pillage among the Greeks; but for the most partthe oppressors had slumbered on in their soft, indolent life till thered hand of vengeance had gripped them. Inglorious though these deedswere, they were inevitable, for slaves who break their bonds are notapt to deal judicially, and vengeance--that rough justice--was in thiscase very just. Then when the slaughter was done the bands would marchto join one of the two centres at Kalavryta or on Taygetus; but for themost part the latter, for Petrobey was still commander-in-chief, and tohis army belonged the prestige of the siege and capture of Kalamata.
But soon the numbers became unmanageable, and he and Nicholas atlength resolved to strike a second blow. Messenia, in which theonly stronghold of the Sultan had been Kalamata, no longer gaveopportunity for anything but guerilla warfare, but in Arcadia therewere several fortified places which would have to be reduced, orat any rate rendered powerless to send help to Tripoli before thelatter place was attacked. Chief among these was Karitaena, standingon a precipitous hill above the gorge of the Alpheus, a fortifiedtown, almost exclusively Turkish, and it was against this place thatPetrobey suggested the second attack should be made. It was, indeed,high time that the unorganized rabble who were pouring in should havesomething to do and also learn the elements of war. So his proposalto Nicholas was that he should organize some kind of regiment out ofthese, taking with him as leaven some of the better-drilled men whohad been at Kalamata, besiege and take the place, if possible, and ifnot, give the men a notion of what a forced march meant, and some ideaof military discipline. Meantime Petrobey would move his quarters intothe hills between the upper Arcadian plain and Tripoli, so that in caseof disaster Nicholas could get quickly back into connection with therest of the army, and, at the same time, from there the southern troopscould watch that fortress. He would, however, quarter a small body ofmen in the pass between Arcadia and Messenia, and have another depotin the present camp, so that if the Turks attempted to land troops atKalamata they would find the passes from Messenia both blocked.
Nicholas fell in with the scheme, and two days afterwards set out withperhaps the least efficient army that has ever taken the field. Buthe had deliberately chosen his troops from the most ill-prepared anduntrimmed of the recruits, for somehow or other all this raw materialhad to be put into shape before it was possible that it should render acreditable or useful account of itself in any serious operations. Butthey were all hardy, out-of-door folk, accustomed to sleep on the hillsand eat the roughest food with health and cheerfulness, and it was justthese who would most speedily prove a drag and a demoralization if leftidle in camp.
So on the third morning they set out, at an open and scattered double,where the mountain-side was steep, among the budding bushes and tiltedrocks, taking the short-cut down to the plain, where it might bepossible to give them some semblance of formation. The baggage andcommissariat mules had preceded them by a few hours, and were to waitfor them when they got down to marching ground.
Two days' march, or rather tramp, brought them to Megalopolis, asparkle in the centre of the green Arcadian plain. They found the townin the hands of the insurgent Greeks, a body of whom, consisting ofabout two hundred men, enrolled themselves under Nicholas. Here, too,they heard the same tale of slaughter and pillage of the Turk; butalready the selfish evil which was to do such harm to the Greek causegenerally--namely, the personal greed for plunder--had crept in, andthe insurgents were wrangling over the distribution of the booty. ButNicholas, with a fine indignation which shamed them into obedience,though amid murmurs of suppressed grumbling, was hot with reproach.Was it for a few piastres, he said, that they were up in arms? Was theliberty of the nation to be weighed against a cask of wine or a Turkishslave? And taking the whole matter into his own hands, he reserved halfthe booty captured for the expenses of the war, and half he divided asfairly as might be among the claimants.
From Megalopolis Karitaena was only a four hours' march, and he wasanxious to force the pace so as to reach it early next morning, beforerumor of their approach should have gone abroad. The Megalopolis menwere as untrained as his own, but they knew the country better, and heorganized out of them a corps of skirmishers, who should go in advanceand intercept any fugitives who might carry the news of the marchinto Karitaena. The only chance of taking it was if he could find itunprepared, like Kalamata, creep up to it at night, and either make anight assault or draw beleaguering lines round it before he could beattacked.
Like Kalamata, the town was pregnable only from one side, but on thisthe road ran steeply up to the gate parallel with the citadel wall,thus exposing the attacking party to a broadside fire if the besiegedwere prepared. They were, in fact, more than prepared; they werewishfully expectant, and Nicholas fell into a very neatly baited trap.
The skirmishing party had started a little before sunset, while theothers were to set out soon after, so as to reach the town by midnightor before, if possible make a night attack, or if not, take up theirplaces, so that when morning dawned the citadel might find itselfbeleaguered. But the skirmishers, exceeding Nicholas's instructions,had gone too far and were seen from Karitaena, and all that night theTurks made preparations for a long-headed manoeuvre on the morrow.However, Nicholas arrived about midnight, and finding everything quiet,and hearing nothing from the skirmishing party which could lead him tothink that Karitaena was prepared, reconnoitred the ground, and decidednot to attack it by night, for the gate was strong and well fortified,and without artillery of some kind would not quickly be forced; and hereturned to the men and gave orders for the disposition of the troops.Those who were most trustworthy, consisting of the greater part of theArgive corps, were posted along the road and to guard the bridge overthe Alpheus, which led to Megalopolis and Tripoli; the less trainedsoldiers he posted on the north and south, where there was littlelikelihood of attack. He himself remained with the rawer troops, wherehis presence was more likely to be needed than with the Argives, onwhom he thought he could rely.
Morning came chilly and clear, and Nicholas, on foot, early wentforward a little to see if there was yet any sign of movement in thecitadel, and, advancing to where he could see the gate, he observedthat it was open and that a couple of Turks driving mules were comingleisurely down the path. This was an unexpected opportunity; surelythey could storm the place out of hand and have done with it; and goingback to the men, he ordered an immediate advance. The Argive troopswere to form the vanguard, then the skirmishers from Megalopolis, andin the rear the mixed and untried men, which he led himself; in aquarter of an hour all was ready, and, the Argive corps leading theway, they advanced at a double up the steep path.
Then, when they were streaming up under the walls, the Turks showedthat they, too, had a word to say to these summary arrangements. Astorm of musketry fire opened on the besiegers from the length of thewall, and, like troops unaccustomed to fire, they did the very worstthing possible, and stopped to return it, instead of advancing. Thiswas hopeless, for their assailants were completely sheltered behindthe fortifications and the Greek fire did no more than innocuouslychip off pieces of mortar and stone from the walls; and, after losingseveral minutes and many lives, they pressed on again gallantly enoughtowards the gate, which still stood open. This brought the second partof the army with Nicholas under fire, but they were now moving rapidlyforward, and he still hoped that they would be able to get in. But thefire had a demoralizing effect on these raw recruits, who had seennothing of warfare but the pillaging of defenceless farm-houses, andas they we
re shot down one after another they, too, wavered. Once thefirst three ranks stopped and would have turned to run, but Nicholas,with a voice of cheerful encouragement--"This way, boys, this way!" heshouted. "We shall soon be past this little shower, and then comes ourturn."
His voice, the sight of him running on as a man runs to a wine-shopunder a pelting of rain, and the words which in the Greek containeda somewhat coarse but popular joke, had the right effect, and theydoubled on again to close up the gap between them and the vanguard.Those few minutes had been deadly expensive, yet it was a marvel to seehow these men, untried and raw as they were, but fed with hate, facedall the horror of a well-directed fire, the grunt and gasp of death,the involuntary cry of overwhelming physical pain, the writhing bodyunder foot, or, hardly less horrible, the sudden and complete strikingout of life; and Nicholas, looking back on the thinned ranks, theterror-struck faces, but the determined advance, thought gleefully,"These are brave men--and this is what they need."
By this time the Argives had very nearly reached the gate, but thenthe defenders played their second card. Quite suddenly from insidedashed out a band of cavalry, some five hundred in number, who rodefull speed down on them. The Argives stopped, and, attempting to makethe best of a hopeless job, the front ranks opened fire and a fewTurks fell. But the charge came on, the two met with a crash, and theinevitable happened. The ranks of foot broke, and the men poured downoff the road onto the steep slope below like water spilled. Resistancewas not possible, and the cavalry came on hewing their way through thecongested mass of men, and in the mean time the firing from the wallswent on steadily. Nicholas seeing what had happened knew that to facethis spelled annihilation, and with a fine wisdom, though the wordswere bitter in his mouth, did the best he could.
"Save yourselves," he cried; "run."
And they turned and fled down the road again, the Turkish cavalry intheir rear, hewing, hacking, and discharging their pistols. The routwas complete, each man ran as fast as he could go, while the cavalry,like a swarm of stinging wasps, flew hither and thither, opening out asthey reached the plain, and chasing the men as they fled single or inbatches of five or six.
Luckily for them wooded hills came down close to the plain here, andthey struck for them desperately across the narrow strip of level land,for there the cavalry could not easily follow them, or only man to man.Nicholas, running down the slope from the road, tripped in a bush--asit turned out luckily for him, for a sabre at that moment swung overthe place where his head should have been; and the Turk, not waitingto attack him singly when there were many little knots of men amongwhom he could pick and choose, rode on leaving him; and Nicholas, whohad sprained his ankle slightly as he fell, plunged into the brushwoodwhere it was thickest, to find refuge and concealment. His rifle hehad thrown away, for it impeded his flight, and he found himself somedistance behind the others, who were going in the right directiontowards Valtetzi, where Petrobey had told them the camp would be. Butthough the rout had been complete and utter, and Nicholas was far fromdisguising the fact from himself, his heart was filled with a secretexultation at the way the troops had behaved for those two or threemoments which try the courage of any man when he is being fired at andcannot return the fire. To be shot at when a man may shoot in return,and aim is matched with aim, is known to be strangely exhilarating, butto be shot at and not to shoot is cold stuff for the courage. They hadbeen through the baptism of fire under the most trying circumstances,and with the exception of that one moment of wavering had stood theirground till they were told to stand no longer.
He crept painfully up the hill-side all alone, but the pursuit hadpassed, and the cavalry, he could see, were returning across the plainto the town, knowing it was useless to follow farther. That fatal roadup to the gate was strewn with corpses, almost all Greek, with onlya handful of Turks and horses. Other horses, however, were careeringriderless about the plain; and Nicholas, limping from his sprain,thought how much more convenient it would be to go riding to Valtetzithan to drag along his swollen foot. A quarter of a mile away he couldsee two or three of the men trying to capture one of these, but theyonly succeeded in frightening it, and it bolted up towards the hillwhere Nicholas was, and a couple of minutes later he saw it burstthrough the first belt of trees and halt on a piece of open groundbelow him. There it stopped, and in a minute or so began cropping atthe short-growing grass. Its bridle, he could see, was over its head,trailing on the ground.
Now Nicholas was an Odysseus of resource, and having lived in the openair all his days not witlessly, he knew the manners of many beasts,and could imitate certain of their calls to each other so that eventhey were deceived; and, furthermore, his foot was one burning ache;and, not wishing to walk more than he could help, he preferred thatthis horse should come to him rather than that he should go to thehorse. It was about a hundred yards from him, but a long way below,and it was grazing quietly. So Nicholas, to make it a little alert,and also to assist in bringing it nearer him, took up a pebble, andwith extreme precision lobbed it over the horse, so that it fell on thefar side of him. The animal, startled by the noise, stopped grazing,and started off at a trot in the direction away from where the pebblehad seemed to come and directly towards Nicholas. After a few yards,however, it stopped again, and Nicholas whinnied gently. At that itlooked up again and sniffed the air, but before it had continued itsgrazing he whinnied once more, and then lay flat down on his back. In amoment the horse answered and Nicholas called to it a third time, andheard from below that it had left the open and was pushing towards himthrough the trees. Once again he called, and the answer came nearer,and in a few moments the horse appeared ambling quickly up the steepincline. For a moment it did not see Nicholas, for he lay flat on theground, half covered by the bush; but when it did, seeing he lay quitestill, it came close up to him and sniffed round him. Then quietlyreaching out a hand, he caught the bridle as it trailed on the ground.
This was satisfactory, for, besides getting a mount, he had acquired apistol which was stuck into its case on the holster, and getting up, hepushed the horse forward through the trees. Half an hour's ride broughthim into a bridle-path, running loftily along the mountain-side, andhe halted here to take his bearings. Straight in front of him, and notan hour's ride distant, stood the huddled roofs of a village, whichhe took to be Serrica, but at present he could only see a few of theoutlying houses. But at the thought that this was Serrica his heartthrilled within him, for it was the village from which his wife hadcome. A wonderful return was this for him; already the work of avengingher death had begun, and soon, please God! should a Turk be slain forevery hair of her head. Ah, the cursed race who had brought dishonor toher, and to him a wound that could never be healed! Helen, too--littleHelen--who ran towards him, crying "Father, father!" Yes, by God, herfather heard her voice still, and her cry should not be lifted up invain!
In half an hour more he stopped to reconnoitre, turning off the pathamong the heather. His heart pulled him thither, yet for that veryreason he would be cautious, and not risk the ultimate completeness ofhis vengeance. From the slope above he watched for ten minutes more,and, seeing no movement or sign of life in the village, concluded thathere, too, the Greeks had risen, and, after driving out the Turks, hadgone either to Petrobey or to Kalavryta. And as he looked he saw that adozen houses at one spot were roofless, showing by their charred beamspointing up to the sky that they had been burned. At the end stood thechurch dedicated to the Mother of God; and, oh, the bitterness of that!It was there he had been married; from that door he had walked awaywith the dearest and fairest of women, the happiest man in Greece.
Nicholas hesitated no longer; it was still an hour before noon, and hedid not care to travel during the day. He would go down once more tothe place, he would see it all again, and let its memories scourge himinto an even keener anguish, a keener lust for vengeance, and, puttinghis horse to an amble down the crumbling hill-side, in ten minutes morehe stood in the straggling village street. There was the house--herhouse--ju
st in front of him, and he went there first. The door wasstanding open, and inside he found, as Mitsos had found at Mistra,the signs of a sudden departure. His brother-in-law then, to whom thehouse belonged, must have gone to Petrobey, or Kalavryta, probably thelatter, and the thought was wine to him. Husband and brother, a doublevengeance, and his should be the work of three men!
He had not eaten that day, but he soon found bread, meat, and wine,and, after stabling his horse and eating, he went out again to thechurch. Every step seemed a tearing open of the wound, yet with everystep his heart was fed with fierce joy. Ah, no, Helen should not callin vain!
The church door was open and he entered. It had not altered at all inthose twenty years since he had seen it last. Over the altar hung arude early painting, showing the Mother of God, and nestling in herarms the wondrous Child. In front the remote kings did obeisance,behind stood the ox and the ass in the stall. And casting himself downthere, in an agony bitter sweet, he prayed with fervor and faith tothe Mother of the Divine Child. All the hopes and the desires of yearswere concentrated into that moment, and he offered them up humbly,yet at his best, to the Lord and the Handmaid of the Lord. Then, inthe excitement of his ecstasy, as he gazed on that rude picture withstreaming eyes, it seemed to him that a sign of acceptance, visibleand immediate, was given him. A light as steadfast, but milder thanthe sun, grew and glowed round the two figures, the rough craft of theartist was glorified, and on the face, so human yet divine, there camethe soft and sudden graciousness of life; it was touched with a pitifulsympathy for him, and the eyes smiled acceptance of his offering. Boweddown by so wonderful a pity, he hid his face in his hands, faith struckfear from his heart, and in that moment he felt that he had not prayedalone, that his wife had knelt by him, and that it was her prayersmingled with his that had brought for him that signal favor of theThrice Holy Maid on his work.
That night, as soon as the sun went down and the ways grew dark, hewent on his journey with a soul refreshed and strengthened; he feltthat the vow he had made over the dead body of his wife had beenattested and approved by Christ and the Mother of Christ, and fromthat hour to the end of his life never for a day did that graciousvision, like bread from heaven, fail to sustain and strengthen him. Andall through the clear spring night the hosts of heaven that rose andwheeled above him were ministering spirits, and the wind that passedcool and bracing over the hill-sides the incense which carried hisprayer upward. He, to whom vengeance belonged, had chosen him as Hishumble but willing agent. His sword was the sword of the Lord.
He crossed the first range of hills by midnight, and then struck theroad which led by the khan where Mitsos and Yanni had stopped on theirway from Tripoli. It was now within two hours of daybreak, but seeinga light in the windows, he drew rein to inquire whether Anastasishad seen aught of the other fugitives. Looking in cautiously throughthe windows, he saw that the floor was covered with Greeks, who laysleeping, while Anastasis, good fellow, was serving others with hotcoffee and bread.
[ILLUSTRATION: "CASTING HIMSELF DOWN THERE, IN AN AGONY BITTER SWEET,HE PRAYED"]
Nicholas tied up his horse and went in. As he entered several of themen in a group round the fire turned and looked to see who it was,instinctively clutching at their knives. Then one got hastily up, andhis head was among the roof-beams.
"Uncle Nicholas!" he cried, "is it you?"
"Who else should it be, little Mitsos? And what do you here?"
"Petrobey sent me down this morning to see if anything could be seen orheard of you, and when you did not come, and we heard from the otherswhat had happened, we were afraid, or almost afraid--"
"I am not so easily got rid of," said Nicholas. "Anastasis, I shallnot forget that you were good to the fugitives. Yes, I will have somecoffee."
Most of the men sleeping on the floor had awoke at the noise and weresitting up. Nicholas took a chair and began sipping his coffee.
"Little Mitsos," he said, aloud, "I do not know what the others mayhave told you has happened, but I will tell you what I saw. I saw abody of men, who knew nothing of war, stand steady under a heavy firebecause they were told to stand. I saw them go on under it when therewas room to move, but not one did I see do aught else until I had toset the example, and told them to run."
Mitsos grew rather red in the face.
"The cavalry charged on them, and from behind the fortifications camea hail of bullets. And I never desire," he said, striking the table agreat thump, "nor would it be possible, to command braver men."
Mitsos held out his hand to the man nearest him.
"Christos, shake hands or knock me down," he said. "I eat my words asone eats figs in autumn--one gulp."
"What have you been saying, little Mitsos?" asked Nicholas.
"I said they were cowards to run away. Oh, but I am very sorry! Theyare bad words I am eating."
"Well, let there be no mistake, Mitsos," said Nicholas; "down they go!"
Christos, a huge, broad-shouldered country Greek, looked up at Mitsos,grinning.
"There is no malice," he said. "I called you a liar."
"So you did, and there were nearly hard blows. Oh, we should have madea fine fight of it, for we are neither little people. But there willbe no fighting now, unless you are wishful, for I will deny no oneanything, now Uncle Nicholas has come. Why, are you lame, uncle? Howdid you get here?"
"I rode a fine Turkish horse," remarked Nicholas; "may I never ride afiner!"
Mitsos' frank and unreserved apologies had quite restored theamiability of those present, who, when Nicholas had entered, weregrowling and indignant, for Mitsos had made himself quite peculiarlyoffensive. But, though he could not clearly see how bravery wascompatible with running away, Nicholas must be taken on trust.
Nicholas had fallen in with the last batch of fugitives. Since noonthey had been streaming up the hills. Only a few apparently werewounded, and these had been sent on on mules to the camp. Those who hadbeen wounded severely, it was feared, must all have fallen into thehands of the Turks, for there had been no possibility of escape, exceptby flight. Altogether Nicholas reckoned they had lost three hundredmen, and but for his own promptness in seeing the utter hopelessnessof trying to stop the cavalry charge, they would have lost five timesthat number. Having satisfied himself on these points, he turned toMitsos again.
"How about the ship?" he said; "and when did you get back?"
"Two days after you left Taygetus," said Mitsos; and then, with a greatgrin, "the ship is not."
"Tell me about it, and I, too, afterwards have something to tell."
Mitsos' story, which was, of course, news to all present, was receivedwith shouts of approval, though he left out that part of it whichraised the exploit to a heroism, and Nicholas smiled at him when he hadfinished.
"It was well done," he said, "and I think, little Mitsos, that I, too,have friends who will, perhaps, aid me, as they have aided you"; and hetold them the story of his strange vision.
"And by this I know," he concluded, "that our work is a work which Godhas blessed, and, come what may, not for an hour will I shrink from itor flinch till it is finished, or till my time comes. Look, the east isalready lightening! Get up, my lads, for we must push on to the camp."
In a quarter of an hour they were off, the men marching in good orderas long as they kept the road, but falling out when they had to climbthe rough hill-side. An hour's walking brought them to the top of thehills, and on a detached spur standing alone and commanding the valleythey could see the lines of the fortifications which Petrobey waserecting. He himself, seeing them coming while still far off, rode outto meet them, and Nicholas spurred his horse forward.
"Praise the Virgin that you have come, Nicholas," he said, "for bythis I know that there was no disgrace."
"You are right. Had there been disgrace I should not be here. But therewas nothing but bravery among the men, and the disgrace, if so youthink it is, is on my head." And he told him what had happened.
"They are brave men," said Pe
trobey, "and yet I think you are thebraver for giving that order."
"I should have been a foolish loon if I had not," said Nicholas,laughing.